Dwain Northey (Gen X)

Ladies and gentlemen, gather round, because our dear Donald has once again blessed us with another galaxy-brain idea. Apparently, the Department of Defense just isn’t cutting it anymore—it’s too soft, too defensive, too… un-Trump-like. Defense, after all, suggests that you’re minding your own business, protecting your people, maybe even prioritizing peace. And what fun is that when you could rebrand the whole thing as the Department of War? Yes, WAR—big, bold, capital letters, probably with a gold-plated logo slapped on the Pentagon. Because nothing says “peace-loving Nobel Prize candidate” like renaming your military to sound like it’s itching to invade the nearest neighbor.

And let’s pause for a second on that part: the Nobel Peace Prize. This is the same man who practically begged for one after shaking Kim Jong-un’s hand like he was brokering world peace instead of trading love letters with a dictator. He still pouts about Obama getting one, as if the committee should just hand him a medal for existing. Yet here he is, demanding that our military stop “defending” and start “warring.” Kind of counterintuitive, don’t you think? Hard to pose for the Peace Prize glamour shot when you’re simultaneously scribbling down a shopping list of countries to invade. Greenland? Still salty about being laughed at. Panama? Why not, it’s been a while. Canada? Maybe just to shut up Carney. Because when you’re Donald Trump, war isn’t a last resort—it’s Tuesday.

This is classic Trump branding: defense sounds boring, but war sounds sexy. Defense implies responsibility, strategy, and patience. War implies action, explosions, parades with tanks rolling past the reviewing stand while Dear Leader salutes. And of course, the merchandising opportunities are endless: Trump Missiles, Trump Tanks, maybe even a line of MAGA camouflage made in China.

The irony, of course, is that Donald himself wouldn’t last five minutes in uniform. “Bone spurs” kept him from Vietnam, but hey—why should that stop him from sending someone else’s kid to die in his glorious rebranded wars? He’ll just sit back at Mar-a-Lago, live-tweet the carnage, and remind everyone that if it weren’t for him, we’d be speaking Canadian by now.

So yes, let’s rename the Department of Defense. Let’s call it the Department of War. Let’s embrace the madness of a man who wants a Nobel Peace Prize in one hand and a flamethrower in the other. Because nothing screams “peace” like endless war—at least in Trump’s upside-down universe.